


Famous Last Words

by eternalshiva



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition: Cullen x Fernweh Trevelyan [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad Cooking, F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2814923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalshiva/pseuds/eternalshiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's a subtle difference in the art of killing people with a concoction you meticulously put together with powders, and then there's keeping them fed - and alive."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Famous Last Words

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: Could you write some hilarious kitchen shenanigans with Cullen/Trevelyan? Maybe Cullen's trying to teach her how to cook, or vice versa. Alternatively, neither of them know how to cook and end up lighting a small fire and promptly shift the blame elsewhere - almost successfully too (until Cole ousts them inadvertently).
> 
> (Not beta'd)

"I'm an alchemist, I'm sure I can do this." Fernweh stepped through the doors of the kitchen and eyed her surrounding critically. It couldn't be _that_ hard. 

"I'm sure you're proficient at _reading_ recipes," Cullen interjected carefully, walking through the doors as well, mere steps behind her, "but cooking is different." 

"How is it different?" She reached up towards the cupboards, opening them to seek out the book that would prove the commander wrong. 

"There's a subtle difference in the art of _killing_ people with a concoction you meticulously put together with powders, and then there's keeping them fed - and _alive_." he added with the tiniest of sighs that made her glance back.

"Well, if you put it that way, commander," she laughed,  "I'm not sure there's a difference between cooking and killing. What about you? Can you cook?"

He grumbled, exasperated. "No, only the bare essentials." He squinted his eyes, thinking about what she had said. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're a Tempest, not an alchemist." 

"As a matter of fact," she knelt down by the larder, there was a shelf there with several books, "I studied alchemy to become a Tempest. The two go hand in hand," her attention was drawn away from the conversation and Cullen narrowed his eyes, giving up trying to convince her otherwise and began his own search through the kitchen.

"Andraste's knickers, did the cook hide this book- ah," she yanked out a  book from _under_ the shelf, dusting it off. She raised a brow, wondering just how old this thing was. 

"Should you use that, it looks as _old_ as Skyhold." Cullen swatted at the air, trying to clear up the dust that was crawling towards him. 

"The keep has more holes," she murmured, flipping through the pages quickly to assess what kind of book this was and was pleasantly surprised in the process.

She was _smiling,_ Cullen observed, which only made him frown openly at her. Smiling and Fernweh usually led to trouble, he had discovered over the last few months. 

"No," he deadpanned. 

"You don't even know what I'm going to _suggest_." Her emphasis wasn't helping him change his mind, nor was that little cat-like walk she was doing towards him. 

 _Maker's breath_.

"Fine, what's the suggestion."  He crossed his arms, feet planted into the ground, trying to tell her she would not sway him with her womanly tricks. She rolled her eyes. 

"We should make this," she plops the book on the island, pointing at the page in question. It was a cake, a very _large_ cake.

"For someone who has never baked before, you certainly have a lot of _ambition_." He picks up the book and flips through it himself, looking for something a little bit more sensible.

"It's just cake." She shrugged.

"And you're _not_ a baker," he shows her a new choice, she peeks over his shoulder, scrutinizing the page.

"Pancakes?" That wasn't what she envisioned when she plotted this celebration for Cassandra's appointment to Divinity. 

"Less dangerous, and _delicious_ if you put the right fruits with them." Just thinking about the heaps of whipped heavy cream piled on top of them was enough to make him water at the mouth.

He wondered... what the whipped cream could taste like on... _No, this wasn't the time_ \- he cleared his throat.   

"Pancakes are not a celebration item," she deadpanned, he grumbled again in protest but she silenced him with a gentle kiss on the cheek. He blushed, still not used to such affection in public spaces, not that a deserted kitchen was anything _public_. 

"Okay, fine - how about these...?" He flips to the cupcakes, and she grins. It would seem he has chosen correctly, which makes him smile, if just a little. 

"Now we're talking," she rubbed her hands together and set to work, pulling out mixing bowls and set Cullen to certain tasks - fire up the kitchen pit ovens, get the fresh cream from the cooling storage and track down some butter. 

When he returned, she had it all laid out flawlessly on the island but, she hadn't started yet. 

"What's wrong?" He probed, wondering just what had her stumped. She rubbed the back of her neck, biting her lip. 

"I.." she sighed, "The recipe fluttered out of the book and landed in the fire pit."

He blinked.

"Are you serious? How did that even happen?" He let out a snort of laughter, which only irritated her. 

"I don't know! The door opened! You mustn't have shut it properly when you left."  Crossing her arms, she glared at him. 

"Don't blame me for this," he scratched at his chin, wondering what to do next. "Is there another cupcake recipe in there we could follow to make these?" 

"No, it was the only one." She was twisting her hands together, stumped. She didn't want to waste everything she had put out; food was a carefully calculated asset in Skyhold and they had many mouths to feed. This project was already going to get her into trouble for sure. 

"Well, it can't be _that_ hard." Cullen smile sheepishly, repeating her words from earlier. She smiled at him and picked up the flour bowl, her confidence renewed.  

What was that saying? Cullen scratched at his nose, the words just at the tip of his tongue. 

* * *

"Lets never speak of this again." Cullen was still wondering just how his eyebrows had managed to catch fire when she put the tin of cupcakes in the oven, she was mortified. 

"I... I got the vials mixed up with my fire elixir one, I..." she swallowed hard, the smoke was still pouring out of the door from the kitchens, she thought she could hear the head cook sobbing on the stairs. 

"How did that even get mixed up in there?" He dusted off the flour from his cloak, he explosion had been immediate once the heat got through the dough. 

"I put my gear on the counter, my vials have the same shape as the ones for the vanilla."  She bit her lip, reaching out to smooth out the singed hair over his ear. "And I grabbed the wrong one." At least he was okay. 

The commander stared at her, her eyes were glossy from tears she was obviously holding back. She had been terrified when he fallen back through the kitchen from the blast and busted through the door. 

"And you smear that on your body?" He pondered about her vials, he never really thought about how dangerous they were. She covered herself in Fire, Lightning and one even made her move so fast she was a blur. 

She blinked, confused at the question. "Smear the... cupcake batter?" 

He laughed, hard - everything was suddenly absurd to him. The fire, the smoke, Fernweh on the verge of tears and now he had the mental picture of her smearing cupcake batter on her body before shouting at dragons to come get her. 

Daggers waving in the air _(he snorts hard)_ , dragon breathing fire, _(tears are streaming down his cheek with his laughter)_ and suddenly the battle field didn't reek of death but of burnt cake _(Fernweh slaps his arm, wondering just what is so funny)_. 

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her temple, chuckling when she grips his sides and sighs so hard she made the fur of his cloak move. 

"I love you, Fernweh - but please, no more cupcakes." She grunted, agreeing to his sage request.

"Andraste Preserve Us, what happened here?" Cassandra was stunned at the billowing plumes of smoke tinting the sky with grey. She turned towards the two figures holding on to each other, scrutinizing their appearance. 

Cullen had flour all over his face and gear, burnt eyebrows and a tinge on his cheeks she could assume was caused by the Inquisitor trying to bury herself into his fur collar and stay out of sight. 

"Uhhh..."  Cullen cleared his throat, "The stoves had a blockage and it caused back up in the kitchens while the staff was cooking... something. It was pure luck we were there to help." 

The inquisitor was nodding, still hiding her face away from Cassandra - she couldn't lie to the Seeker, Fernweh had confessed to him once that she was sure she could read her mind. 

"Oh Maker, are you alright?" Her eyebrows had shot up, moving in closer to inspect her friends, who seemed to have little injury when Cole stepped out of where ever he disappears to when he wants no one to see him. 

Cullen was relieved, it seems she had bought it. Luck was on their-

"They were baking you a cake, I was curious, I wanted to help too. I snuck in but the wind blew through the door and the paper with the instructions floated into the oven." 

Cullen swallowed hard. Oh Maker, he's going to...

"I was too nervous to tell them, they didn't know I was there. Fernweh used the wrong bottle, and the kitchen blew up." 

 _He did it._ Cullen groaned in disbelief. _Cole had ratted them out_. The commander swore under his breath, Cassandra sighed, exasperated and Fernweh couldn't stop laughing. 

"I helped?" Cole smiled.


End file.
